


mothers be good to your daughters too

by fardareismai



Series: Imagine Claire and Jamie (Prompts from the blog that I have fulfilled) [1]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, family life, fluffy re-write, post-second-book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai/pseuds/fardareismai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine if Claire had been able to stay in the past and Jamie gets to teach Brianna how to ride horses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mothers be good to your daughters too

“ **She can barely walk, Jamie!** ”  


“ **You dinna need to be able to walk to be lead about on horseback, Sassenach.** ”  


He was right, of course.  When he’d told Bree the previous night as he was putting her to bed that they would go horseback riding today, I’d had horrific pictures in my mind of my two-year-old daughter tumbling off the back of a horse and cracking her head on some protruding bit of Scottish granite as her father rode on all unknowing.

I knew, of course, that he’d never do anything of the sort.  He loved his daughter to distraction and would let no danger befall her.  It was heart-wrenching sometimes to watch him with her- enfolding her in his arms and keeping her safe.  She would always know the safety of her father’s arms, I vowed.  I would move heaven and earth to see it so.

Honestly, the slow meander around the paddock, her fingers buried in the placid old mare’s mane, her little feet kicking the horse’s side and causing her to do no more than flick her ears- she couldn’t be safer.  Not in these days.

As I watched, I wondered if, in another time, he would be teaching her to ride a tricycle similarly.  Though, I supposed, a tricycle could not be guided by clicks of her father’s tongue and deep Gaelic commands, his hand on her back would, I felt sure, be exactly the same.

“ **And what’s her name, a leannan?** ” he asked suddenly.  


“ **Sorcha,** ” she said, her accent already far better than mine was ever likely to be over the Gaelic.  “ **Like Mama!** ”  


I shook my head.  I’d objected to the creature being named after me from the moment we’d gotten her, but Jamie insisted that her coat was just the same colour as my hair, and there was no denying that he was right.

“ **At least she hasna your temper,** ” he’d said to me at the time, which had led to me jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow, thus proving his point.  I held, however, that he should never have been hectoring a woman 7 months pregnant in the first place, and Jenny had agreed with me.  


“ **I want to jump the fence, Daddy!** ”  


Her request brought me thumping out of my reverie.  “ **Absolutely not!** ” I cried.

“ **But Mama,** ” my daughter wailed, her rosebud bottom lip poking out absurdly.  


**“I said no!”**   


“ **Ach well, you heard your mother,** ” Jamie said laconically.  “ **You’ve done brawly today, lassie, perhaps tomorrow we’ll jump the fence.** ”  


I rolled my eyes.  She was still too young to know what he meant when he said that, but when she asked the following day if she could jump, he would just say “ **no, m’annsachd, I said _tomorrow_ , did I no?**”  He could go on like that for months.

“ **Come along then, my wee lassie,** ” he said, lifting her down from the horse’s back. “ **It’s time for your luncheon.** ”


End file.
